


rock a rhyme (that's right on time)

by disinvxltura



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, also there's psych talk bc i can't fucking help myself, percabeth and frazel are background ships, percico and solangelo make their debut but then come sinking down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disinvxltura/pseuds/disinvxltura
Summary: At sixteen, Nico is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate.And that’s fine, really. Even though a large majority of the human population has a soulmate, it’s not exactly uncommon for people to not have them. Nulls can have successful lives and healthy relationships.or: soulmate au where the song stuck in your head is your soulmate singing/humming it feat. drunk!jason grace





	rock a rhyme (that's right on time)

**Author's Note:**

> i blame my gf (who i also dedicate this to as a belated anniversary gift)
> 
> title from it's tricky by run—d.m.c.
> 
> not beta'd

At sixteen, Nico is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate.

And that’s fine, really. Even though a large majority of the human population has a soulmate, it’s not exactly uncommon for people to not have them. Nulls can have successful lives and healthy relationships.

So it’s not like it’s the end of the world, even if he does have a lingering crush on Percy fucking Jackson, who, by the way, found his soulmate at twelve. _Twelve._

Even if he does feel like he’s been stabbed when he sees Percy with Annabeth.

Even if he feels a yearning for something — someone — that will never be his when he sets his eyes upon Hazel and Frank chatting while their thighs are pressed together, hands clasped.

Even if he looks down the bustling hallway of his high school and thinks, _I’m always going to be alone_.

 

Nico, despite his best attempts, is bombarded by soulmate related media wherever he goes.

An advertisement for some romcom about soulmates meeting by chance over chat roulette; songs over the radio declaring their undying love for their fated; novels upon novels of characters questing to find their one and only; teen magazines yelling in bold font “What’s your ideal soulmate?”

Hazel shoots him a worrying glance when he passes by Percy and Annabeth in the hallway, Percy’s arm draped around Annabeth’s waist as she laughs at something he says.

Nico pretends not to notice.

 

When he asks Hazel what it’s like to have a soulmate, she blinks up at him.

“Well,” she begins, setting her sketchbook aside, “it’s a lot like not having one. There’s not much of a difference, but the relationship is… Easier, in the sense there’s an immediate click. And with music.”  
Nico nods.

Hazel watches him with her head tilted. “You know straight away when you meet your soulmate.” Her hands fly about, “I can’t even explain how you know. You just… know.

“There’s still ups and downs, but no matter what, you’re drawn to each other. There’s no escaping the other once you’ve met. And it’s easier to adapt to the other, but…“ She shrugs. “A relationship is a relationship. Maybe soulmate bonds have more magic to them, but that’s all it comes to.”

 

Nico throws himself into his schoolwork.

His mind sometimes whispers at him when he’s walking down an empty hallway, moving from class to class. _You’re only doing this to distract yourself from the fact that all you hear in your mind is radio silence._

But that’s a thought for another day. Right now, getting to class on time is all that’s important.

He walks on.

 

Nico has a habit of singing to the radio.

It’s always bittersweet, because his mind just won’t shut up, but he does it anyway. Even if it’s belting out lyrics to Katy Perry or Adele, he likes doing it.

So he does.

And, maybe, just _maybe—_ he’s a tad hopeful. Hopeful that his soulmate just doesn’t sing or hum, even if they’re in the shower.

Which is understandable, even though it’s made life hell for Nico.

But despite the bitterness, the resentment, the pain of thinking —knowing — he has nobody listening to the songs he puts into their heads? He’s always wanted to believe.

 

It’s when he’s reading about soulmates that he clues in to his soulmates existence.

He’s reading over a study for his AP Psych class — the only class he’ll consistently do his homework for.

And it’s about happiness in regards to having a soulmate or not having a soulmate. Two variables: happiness and the presence of a soulmate somewhere in the world.

Happiness is measured by a test given to the subjects, and is on a scale of one to ten. Attached to the test is one added question: Do you have soulmate? Both experimenter and subjects are blind to the experiment.

Results: mean happiness of subjects with soulmate is 8.64, standard deviation of 2.75. Mean happiness of subjects with no soulmate is 8.22, standard deviation of 3.46. Statistical analysis revealed the p-value to be .7. As the p-value is over .5, we do not reject the null. We then can conclude that—

“This speech is my recital, I think it’s very vital to rock a rhyme that’s right on time. It’s Tricky is the title, here we go!”

Nico stops. Stares down at the paper. And can only listen to the guitar-aided rap — hip hop? — blaring in his head.

And then— “Hazel!”

 

There’s this guy who waves at him when he walks from his art class to his AP U.S. History class. And Nico knows he’s waving at him because nobody else uses this hallway. It’s the exact reason he uses it.

And Nico waves back, hesitant.

The guy — a lanky blond with curly hair — beams at him.

Nico is left feeling unsettled.

 

It keeps happening. Always at night, when he’s trying to get some semblance of sleep. And always on the goddamn weekends.

Nico rolls over in his bed. But he would _not_ walk five hundred miles, and he would _not_ walk five hundred more unless it’s to smack his terrible, horrible, no good soulmate to get them to shut the hell up.

He’s allowed to be angry, okay, he spent his entire day wanting to tear his classmates’ hair out for even trying to imply that it was necessary to like the songs their soulmate sings.

Or hums, really, because they both cause the same effect.

And, look, he’s happy to have soulmate. Really! But he also hates his fucking soulmate, especially on this Friday night.

He can’t wait to kiss them senseless.

 

Blond guy keeps waving at him until one day, he finally get the guts to stop and start talking to Nico, right in the middle of the hallway.

Nico blinks at him before pulling out his earbuds. “Sorry, what was that?”

Blondie smiles. “I just wanted to say that I always see walking down here, and I wanted to talk to you.”

Nico tilts his head. “Uh, okay?” He takes a glance behind him to where his locker is located. “Is that all?” He tries not to look too anxious, but he really, really doesn’t want to be here. He has a schedule, god damn it.

Blondie has the decency to look embarrassed. “I was also wondering if I could have your number? I mean, to get to know you better and all.”

And Nico is Suspicious™, with a capital S and all. He’s read fanfiction, thank you very much. He pulls his phone out and passes it to the boy. “So, if we’re gonna do this, what’s your name?”

“Will,” the guy responds, tapping on the screen. “Yours?”

Nico is watching him carefully, dozens of possibilities bouncing around in his head. He doesn’t like any of them. “Nico.”

“Cute name. Pretty fitting,” Blondie — Will, Nico corrects himself — gives him back his phone. “Call me or text me.”

“Will do,” Nico personally thinks he doesn’t want to. “But I gotta—” The bell rings. “Go! I’m already late!”

Will waves him goodbye, but Nico is too busy running to his locker.

 

It doesn’t end well with Will.

 

> _[6:37 pm] sure thing, love!_
> 
> [6:44 pm] Do you call everyone that? Or am I special?
> 
> _[6:46 pm] nah, i call everyone that :)_
> 
> [6:51 pm] Hm. Okay.
> 
> [6:51 pm] So, can I ask why you talked to me today?
> 
> _[6:53 pm] well, i always thought you were cute. you looked so calm and chill and i knew i had to do something before i lost my nerve._
> 
> [6:54 pm] I always thought I looked ready to kill someone.
> 
> _[6: 55 pm] nah, you just looked like a cool guy_
> 
> _[6:58 pm] and i think i might like you_

 

Nico deletes the number from his contacts and all of their texts.

 

Will catches him the day after. “Hey!”

Nico has never run faster in his entire life.

 

He doesn’t see Will again.

 

The end of the school year is a whirlwind.

He aces his exams and wows his AP Language and Composition class with his final project — (“You went from both men and women gazing upon you with poorly concealed awe to the sexually transmitted disease called syphilis in five, six, seven lines.”) — and gets to skip the last day, thanks to prior planning.

He might have left this school year with a broken heart or two, but he’s doing fine. Much better than he has in past years.

Things are looking up.

 

His soulmate keeps fucking singing.

 

Senior year is… a mess, to put it lightly.

Between even more AP classes, college applications, and his teachers worrying about him, Nico has no time to think about where his soulmate might be.

Or why they started singing out of the blue.

(That’s a lie, he’s always thinking about it. It gets bad enough that he doesn’t care about the present, only thinking about where and when he’s going to meet his fated, much to his teachers’ disappointment.

He’s a romantic and he’s unhealthy, sue him.)

 

He has to fight tooth and nail to convince his dad to go to college some hundred miles away from home, but it’s worth it. It’s in a quaint little city, but it’s close to the lake and it’s cute, sue him.

It’s also really hot, even in the nighttime. His roommate, a guy named Mitchell, drags him to a frat house. Nico wonders how he has so much energy in this sweltering heat.

“Come on!” He says, dragging Nico along with him. “My sister’s gonna be there. You’ll love her.”

Nico looks at him weirdly. “I never said I wanted to come.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re coming anyway.”

Journey’s pumping through his head and it takes all of Nico’s willpower to not crumble to the floor. Mitchell notices, though, and stops.

“What’s wrong?”

“Soulmate,” is all that he can manage. Mitchell makes an understanding noise before tugging him down the street.

It takes them a few minutes to get to the frat, but once they do, Nico wants to sink into the ground and never come back to the mortal realm. Music is blasting inside, though Nico can’t hear it over the music inside his head.

He thinks it might be the same.

Mitchell pulls him through the door, and Nico’s gut starts churning.

It’s not at all dim. Much more brighter than what Nico was expecting. So much that he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

The music, both external and internal, pound in his ears. The exact same song.

Nico opens his eyes, afraid of what he might see.

And there he is. There he fucking is.

Nico’s soulmate, standing on top of a pool table, flush high on his cheeks, glasses crooked, singing what Nico distantly recognizes as Easy Lover. In falsetto.

And Nico? Nico just _knows_ it’s him. Logic is kind of maybe sort of working with him, but it’s all intuition and just _knowing_.

The rest of the world doesn’t really fucking matter; it’s all excitement and anger and all-consuming rage and Phil Collins and—

“You!” His body acts of its own accord, storming over to the tall blond until he’s standing right in front of him. “You mother _fucker_ ! Do you know how fucking long you kept me awake at night?! How I couldn’t fucking study because you’re too fucking busy singing _fucking_ Bon Jovi?!”

Nico’s soulmate blinks down at him. Belatedly, Nico realizes that there was chatter before he bust in. It’s silent now.

“Uh…” Blond Fucker looks confused for one, two, three beats before he lights up. “You’re mine!”

Nico has to scramble back because, holy shit, Blond Fucker is clambering down from on top of the pool table to hug him.

And, yep, this guy is definitely his soulmate, if the humming sensation in his body means anything.

Hoo boy, is he doomed.

 

It takes him a good few minutes before he’s able to pull back enough to take Jason, as he learns his name is, to the side.

And if Nico writes his number on Jason’s arm at the end of the night, well, they’re soulmates.

 

Nico’s phone buzzes in his hoodie while he’s eating a late breakfast in the Union.

 

> **[11:19] Hey, I saw your number on my arm this morning. Are you Nico?**
> 
> [11:20] Yeah. This is Jason, right?
> 
> **[11:20] Yeah!**
> 
> **[11:21] Sorry, but I have no idea what happened what last night.**
> 
> [11:23] Long story short: we’re soulmates. And I might have yelled at you when I heard you singing?
> 
> **[11:23] Haha, sorry?**
> 
> **[11:24] But I’m happy we met.**

 

Nico thinks he might be, too.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm dead
> 
> come make sure i'm still kicking [@carterhxrt](https://twitter.com/carterhxrt)


End file.
